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Hello everyone! Thank you for stopping by. A couple of weeks ago I posted a story written by me called It Happened In An Elevator. My post today is a continuation of that story. If you have not read “It Happened In An Elevator” perhaps you should do so prior to reading this one. (Just click on the linked title above)

I saw her today. I was descending subway steps when I noticed a blonde standing on the platform, waiting for a train. Something about her stance and profile was familiar. I stumbled and nearly knocked over a silver-haired lady as I hurried past her. I couldn’t yell out her name because I didn’t know it.

When A Stranger Leaves An Imprint

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

Three feet away from her, I came to a sudden standstill. I stared at her, my brows knit so tight my head began to throb. My heart beat loudly in my ears, drowning out all sounds except the screeching halt of the train. I tried to reach out and touch her on the shoulder to make her aware of my existence. What if she doesn’t remember me? My arms felt like lead. I couldn’t lift them. It was the hotel elevator all over again.

The train doors opened. She walked in. I could follow her in and get off at the next stop if things didn’t work out. She’s not going to remember me. Uncertain, I stepped back. The train doors closed. My eyes followed her as she made her way to the large train window before me. As she reached for the handle overhead, her gaze met mine, and her eyes opened wide with recognition. She smiled and waved hello! As the train began to move, she poked out her lower lip in disappointment and waved goodbye. She remembered me! I let her slip out of my life for a second time. I had two opportunities to meet her, and I hindered both chances. Would I ever get another chance?

The trip back to my apartment was a haze of depression, regret and self-loathing. I had a million questions running through my mind. What was she doing in New York City? Did she live here? I got home and sulked for a while, and then decided to go to bed. I lay there thinking of her face, her smile… She remembered me! I fell asleep.

Maybe an hour later, raps on the door jolted me awake.

“Who is it?” I called out, half-asleep.

There was no answer. I peered through the peephole, and my heart seized up. This couldn’t be! Open the door, idiot! I inhaled sharply and obeyed my inner voice. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The fetching stranger I had met a year ago in the elevator of a fancy hotel, the same beauty I had glimpsed in the train station, now stood before me.

“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked in a sultry voice.

I opened the door wider and gestured for her to enter.

“H-h-how did you find me?” I asked, feeling foolish.

“We can talk, or we can do. What is your pleasure?” She took my breath away with her words. “Come, we’ve both been yearning for this moment for so long. Lets not waste time. We can talk later.”

I rushed to her. My chest heaved with excitement. I grabbed her, trying to control my enthusiasm. I pushed her against the wall and began to kiss her. Her lips were so soft and warm, and as our lips joined, they seem to fuse together. All the nerves in my body were firing at once. Her hands caressed my bare chest and then slid around to my back. She pulled me closer. My hands worked their way around her body, caressing every curve. She gasped and tossed her head back. I nuzzled my face against her neck and kissed her repeatedly.I could hear her soft moans of pleasure as I continued to explore her body.

She reached for my boxer-briefs and began to lower them. My male organ sprang loose as my shorts slid to the floor. She lowered her eyes and then gave me a look of approval. She removed her tank top, revealing her magnificent breasts. Without hesitation, I reached for them. I held them, caressed them, kissed them. I could have made love to them. She held my face in her hands and pushed me away gently. She looked at my manhood and licked her lips. My body tensed, feeling the pressure build up in my most manly parts. She slinked down to a squatting position. She passed her hand over it and stared with the curiosity of a child.

“You’re so vigorous,” she said and slipped my head into her mouth.

My body went slack, and my eyelids became heavy. There are no words to describe the sensations that coursed through my body at that moment. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. Noises escaped my lips I did not recognize. I lowered my eyes to watch her in action. She looked up and smiled. She gripped my rear and took me in deeper, all the while gazing into my eyes. I was mesmerized.

Ring. Ring. Ring. I sat upright in bed. The irritating alarm clock woke me up at the best part of my dream. I tossed my blanket aside. “Ah, damn!” I was a mess. When was the last time I had a wet dream? I couldn’t remember. It was that long ago. I showered and got ready for work, still feeling the regret of the night before.

At work, I was not myself. I was quiet, serious and pensive, a pestering “What if?” hanging over my head.

“Hey, Gallo, ready to go to lunch?” said Antonio.

He was quickly becoming one of the best friends I’d ever had. We met when we were both promoted a few months ago and transferred to the NYC office—me from Boston, and he from Miami. There was only one position open at the NYC branch, and we both wanted it. We fought hard at that board meeting on the 5th floor of the Madison Avenue Hotel, and we both dazzled the sharks. They couldn’t bear to part with either of us, so they hired us both. We’ve been inseparable at work ever since.

“Yeah, I could use something to eat,” I muttered.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Come on. You’ve been moping around all day.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all.”

Antonio looked at me sideways. We had lunch at Marea on Central Park South. Great seafood. I began to feel better.

The rest of the day went by quickly. Work kept me busy, and I had very little time to think of anything else. I was grateful. At the end of the day, I was exhausted. When I got home, I showered, had dinner and tried to do some work on my laptop, but I couldn’t concentrate. Maybe I was just too tired.

Her face appeared in my mind’s eye. I don’t even know her name. It’s funny how some people come into our lives and without saying a word, leave an imprint on our hearts. Moments like these always force me to think about my life. Where is it headed? I’m very successful now. That board meeting a year ago went just as I had planned, but what of my love life? Did I miss the opportunity to meet my soul mate? There’s a reason I can’t get her out of my mind. I believe we were meant to be together. I believe I will see her again, and this time nothing will stand in my way. Not my insecurities, not my fears— nothing!

I have so much—everything I’ve ever wanted. What good are all my possessions, this great life, if I can’t share them with someone I love? Of course, I have met other women and dated a great deal, but even with a night of physical activity, I have failed to achieve the level of passion I experienced with the lovely angel on that elevator. I must find her.

I’m lonely. Can I say that, living in a city of millions? I will find her.

The next day I was at the train station where I had seen her. I was there at the same time and in the same location. I waited for hours, but the angel never showed. I went back again, and she was a no-show once more.

Thursday, Antonio decided to work through lunch. It wasn’t like him to do that, but he said he was running behind. It was a gorgeous day—bright and sunny with a pleasant, cool breeze. Central park was very crowded. There was a band playing, which explained the multitudes. I tried to make my way through the crowd to my favorite restaurant. I scanned my surroundings, and my eyes stopped on a dream. There she was, her shiny blonde hair playing in the gentle breeze, and only a massive crowd between us.

I pushed and shoved my way among the masses, determined not to allow anyone or anything to get in the way of me talking to this woman. When I was but a short distance away, she noticed me in the crowd.

I waved and yelled, “Wait right there, please! Don’t move!”

I sensed the heat rising in my face. I finally stood before her, panting, and no doubt red-faced.

“Please tell me your name,” I implored.

She tilted her head to the side, scrunching her brows slightly, observing me for a moment, and then she finally smiled.

“My name is Charlise.” Her voice was soothing and mellifluous.

“My name is Ethan, Ethan Taylor” I blurted. “I know we’ve only had a brief encounter in an elevator, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day. When I saw you at the train station a few days ago, I felt it was a sign. You remembered me. We should explore this. I want to get to know you.”

I finally stopped babbling. Charlise stared wide-eyed at me, her eyebrows arched high, her mouth hanging open. I realized I had frightened her. I took a step toward her, and she backed away with her arms in front of her.

“Please, don’t fear me. I mean you no harm. I simply don’t want to miss another opportunity to get to know you,” I told her as gently as I could in my loud surroundings. I watched her shoulders relax, and her eyes gazed sweetly at me once again.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” she asked.

“I do now,” I responded. She smiled, and it was like receiving oxygen after nearly suffocating in a sea of fear.

A short burst of wind blew her hair to mask her face. I reached out and gently straightened the strands of hair. We looked into each other’s eyes the entire time. After removing the last strands, I caressed her face. I noticed an eyelash on her cheek. I removed it with my finger and showed it to her.

“Make a wish,” I told her. She moved closer and shut her eyes. I recognized her perfume. When she opened her eyes again, she puckered her lips to blow the lash from my finger. Her lower lip touched my finger as she blew. I felt the warmth of her breath, and I swear the tip of my finger was connected to every nerve fiber of my being. My body quivered. She grinned, and I wanted to lose control. I craved to take her home. I longed to worship the art of her bare form. I had an overwhelming desire to touch her, taste her, melt into her very soul until the two of us became one.
“Charli, we have to leave. I can’t take this place anymore. My head is killing me,” a young brunette insisted as she tugged at my angel. “Who is this?” She looked at me with reproachful eyes.

“He’s an old friend,” responded Charlise. The brunette’s mouth tightened as she looked me up and down.

“We have to leave now. I’m serious! My head’s going to blow.”

“Alright, alright,” said Charlise, and then she looked at me. “It was nice running into you again. I have to go now.” Her voice was soft, sweet and sad. She wants to stay with me.

“Lets go! God!” shouted the brunette as she pulled her away.

Charlise waved good-bye and disappeared into the crowd. At least now I know her name, and she knows mine. Charlise. What a beautiful name. It was like a melody. We are meant to be together, and I will see her again soon.
I looked at my watch. It was time for me to head back to work. I served no purpose in my office that afternoon. Erotic thoughts of my angel plagued me. I took hold of my manhood and stroked it with thoughts of her until all that was left in my wake was a load of discarded frenzy.

Friday came around. Antonio had been reminding me about our dinner date twenty times a day for the past few days. Needless to say, I was glad the day had finally arrived. At the end of the day, I told him I would make a pit stop at home to shower and dress, and then meet him at his house for dinner.

I arrived at Antonio’s house at seven o’clock. He greeted me at the door.

We grinned at each other, and then he took me by surprise when he embraced me. In a very manly manner, of course—crushing me like a boa constrictor and patting me on the back so hard, I thought I would cough up blood.

“Dude! Take it easy!” I laughed.

“I’m sorry, Gallo, I’m just happy to see you in my house.”

“Alright, alright, let’s not get emotional.” I shook my head disapprovingly while Antonio laughed.

I sat on his couch, and he got me a drink. I was relaxed and happy to be there.

“My wife will be out in a moment. You know how women are. It doesn’t matter how much time they have to get ready. It’s like they’re allergic to being on time.”

“I’m right here,” said a female voice. I stood to greet her. “Hello it’s nice to…” her words were strangled by the look of agony on my face.

I could hardly stand. My hands were shaking. There was an awkward silence while we stared at each other. Her face wore a perturbed grimace. Finally, my eyes fell to the ground. Inside, my chest blazed a firestorm. I was lightheaded. I slumped and held on to my knees.

“What’s going on?” asked Antonio.

I looked up at his puzzled face, and then glanced at hers. Her eyes were wide imploring me to keep my silence. I regained control of myself. I took a deep breath, and stood upright.

“I’ve been feeling poorly all day,” I lied. “I believe I’m coming down with something.”

“Why didn’t you say something at work?” asked Antonio.

“I knew how much you’ve been looking forward to having me over for dinner and to meet your wife. I didn’t want to disappoint.”

Antonio shook his head. “I would have simply made a change of plans, my friend.”

“I can’t stay, Antonio. I’m sorry. I thought I could visit for a couple of hours, but I can’t. I hope I didn’t ruin dinner for you.”

“Of course not. We’ll do this again another night.”

I looked at his wife, gripped in pain. I swallowed hard. “It was nice meeting you, and I’m sorry.” It took everything I had to say those words.

“Please don’t be sorry,” said she tenderly her eyes glittering.

“You have an angel for a wife, Antonio,” I said as I watched him smile and nod.

He put his arm around her, twisting the knife already lodged deep in my heart. Inside, I winced in pain. On the outside, I mustered a weak smile and walked away, certain that my best friend would be holding my true love, my angel, in his arms tonight.

Hi Ingrid! Yes, I felt bad for Ethan also, but sometimes things don’t work out the we would like. The worst part is that we can’t choose who we fall in love with. You’re so welcome. Thank you for reading it. ❤

I’ve been called a lot of things, but could you believe I’ve never been called romantic? I guess writing “It happened In An Elevator”, which was inspired by a dream, woke up the sleeping romantic in me. I’m glad you enjoyed it Kendall. 🙂

For some strange reason, I knew that Charlise would be his friend’s wife. Even though I thought it, I was completely shocked when I actually read it. I just love your stories, Vashti! I’m always hooked from beginning to end.